


Needle and Thread

by VulpesVulpes713



Series: A Collection of Klance [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Laith, Lots of kissing, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), and both are very distracted by kisses, and grinding, and hints of sex, both are good at sewing, but on a scale of 1 to steamy, klance, klance fluff, mild NSFW, this is a solid 7 minutes in heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 09:42:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Based on the prompt "kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing ".Keith tries to fix a tear in his jacket. Lance just wants some attention.The end result?Feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

Alteans, despite all their technological advancements and incredibly futuristic tools, had nothing that even  _remotely_  resembled a sewing kit.

 

Apparently ancient alien races had outgrown the need for such things, and made clothing that wasn’t designed to tear.

 

Or maybe they had robots that fixed torn seams and missing buttons for them, stowed away in some lower part of the castle.

 

Keith wasn’t sure, but needless to say he had looked, and come up disappointingly empty. He’s even stooped so low as to ask the mice for help, as he’d seen in a movie once...just to see. 

 

Now he was forever going to wonder what three squeaks and tail whip meant.

 

It was infuriating, and Keith was growing impatient. 

 

_Who the heck designs a ship without so much as a needle and thread!_

 

Even his small shack back on Earth had had those items, and Keith had gotten fairly decent at repairing his own items, prolonging their lives beyond what they were designed for.

 

It was a skill he prided himself in; one that most people wouldn’t outright know he possessed. Which was why he was a bit pissed to find absolutely  _nothing_  to help prevent the small tear in his jacket from growing more. 

 

_I could just ask Allura or Coran..._

 

But the thought of having someone else fix his things was just...strange. Foreign, unknown...homey. Keith wasn’t used to others offering him help. He had gotten by on his own just fine thank you very much, and the lessons he had learned along the way were of his own business. 

 

_I can fix it myself. I just need to find something small enough..._

 

Pidge, luckily, had an abundance of smallish items strewn randomly in her Lion’s hangar, and though she hadn’t been there for him to ask permission, Keith didn’t see the harm in him borrowing several thin pieces of wiring and a long, leathery cord. 

 

_This should work._

 

An hour later Keith was re-evaluating his thoughts.

 

“Ouch, dammit!” he cursed, sucking his thumb to ward off the sharp pinprick of pain that would soon blossom after having the wire slip and poke his finger.  

 

He had managed to form the pieces into a make-shift needle, and had been relatively proud of himself at the time. The cord, however, was less cooperative.

It kept slipping out of the gadget he had crafted, falling to the floor and forcing Keith to abandon his efforts in order to look for it.

 

When he had finally managed to keep it within the confines of the wire, he soon discovered that the material of his jacket may be a tad too strong for the needle to pierce. 

Another twenty minutes spent re-designing the tool, and finally,  _finally_ , Keith had made the first hole. And then the cord had been too thick to pass through.

 

“Ah fuck me,” he muttered, rapidly losing hope.

 

“Gee, well,” a voice said from behind him, “if you insist.”

 

Keith didn’t spare Lance a look as he heard the boy enter the room. He was too focused on trying to section off a thinner piece of the cord with his knife, and though his cheeks flared at the comment his boyfriend had made, he was growing more used to the relentless flirts. 

 

_Besides, I’ll make do on that later._

 

The couch dipped beside him, and still Keith kept his focus on his actions. Cutting cord with a knife was a lot more difficult than Keith had been expecting.

 

And then he saw Lance’s hands slide across the cushions towards his thigh, tracing patterns in the fabric of his pants, and suddenly everything got a lot harder. 

In...more than one sense of the word.

 

“ _Keeiiittthhh_ ,” Lance drawled, scooting closer when his hands were ignored. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! All day it feels like.”

 

Keith spared him a grunt, narrowing his eyes as he struggled to keep the line straight as he cut. Lance moved in closer, until his side was flat against Keith’s, and then warm fingers could be felt walking across his torso. 

 

Keith shivered despite the heat Lance provided, and shook his head slightly to try and focus. 

 

_I’m almost done, just need to cut this a little longer-_

 

Lips made contact with the skin at his neck, and Keith froze, letting his eyes shut as he worked to keep the knife in his grasp from slipping.

 

“Lance,” he mumbled gruffly, “I’m busy.”

 

Lance didn’t reply, instead moving his mouth to plant a small peck along Keith’s collarbone. 

 

Keith bit his tongue, preventing the groan from escaping his throat as he felt Lance’s tongue dart out and draw tiny patterns along his skin.

 

_Damn flirt. Can’t he see I’m holding a very sharp knife?!_

 

As much as Keith wanted to abandon the task of making the cord more user friendly, his jacket still needed repairing. And if Keith had to fix it with Lance leaving a trail of kisses up his neck, then so be it. He couldn’t always be dropping everything just to make-out with his boyfriend, no matter how pleasing the idea was. 

 

_Focus._

 

So he did. Keith opened his eyes, doing his best to ignore Lance as he shifted on the couch, angling himself to better reach Keith’s jawline. 

 

Considering the distraction, Keith was able to finish cutting through the cord without cutting off his own fingers, and held it up with a victorious cheer. 

 

Lance paused what he was doing, his mouth having moved up to give Keith’s cheeks some attention, and glanced over at what Keith held.

 

“Did you just ‘a-ha’ a piece of leather?”

 

Keith nodded, setting his knife down and attempting once again to use his homemade needle to mend his jacket. He could feel Lance watching him, and the added pressure of an audience made his fingers clammy and less precise. 

 

The needle slipped, poking through the jacket and piercing his thumb on the other side.

 

Keith yelped, dropping the coat and frowning as red bubbled to the surface of his skin. Before he could bring it to his mouth however, Lance reached out and grabbed his wrist, bringing it to his own lips and planting another small kiss there.

 

Keith watched, his stomach dropping pleasantly like it did whenever he flew Red, and he finally let his eyes wander up to Lance’s face. 

 

“What are you-”

 

“Kissing it better,” Lance interrupted, knowing what Keith was about to ask. He set Keith’s hand down, patting it gently, and then frowned down at the jacket on the floor. “More importantly, what are  _you_  doing?”

 

Keith felt his face redden. Though he and Lance had been dating for a while, Keith had yet to tell him about his sewing proficiency. It wasn’t like it was some  _big_  secret that he wanted to keep to himself; more like something he just hadn’t brought up. 

 

He was...sort of nervous about what Lance would say should he find out.

 

_Too late for that now._

 

 _“_ There’s a rip in my jacket, so I’m trying to fix it.”

 

_There. Done._

 

Lance hummed, his face blank as he reached down to pick up the article of clothing. He turned it over in his hands, until he found the spot Keith was speaking of. The needle and cord were still secured within the fabric, and Lance tapped them lightly before staring up at Keith.

 

“Do you not have a sewing kit?”

 

Keith huffed, folding his arms over his chest as he explained.

 

“Not on me, no. And I searched the castle but there’s nothing close enough. So I made my own.”

 

A small smile twisted up the corners of Lance’s mouth, and Keith prepared himself for the onslaught of teasing about his archaic ways. But the laugh never came. In fact, Lance leaned forward, pressed a quick kiss to Keith’s cheek, and then bolted from the room, leaving Keith’s jacket on the couch behind him.

 

“Wha-Where are you going?!” Keith called after him, and Lance slowed at the doorway.

 

“My room.”

 

“Why?”

 

Lance grinned.

 

“To make your day!” and with that he was gone, sprinting down the hallways until his footsteps were silent. 

 

Keith watched the door for a minute longer, then shrugged and went back to his coat. His thumb still throbbed from where it had been poked, so he made a point of avoiding the sharp end of the wire needle as he struggled to push it through all the way. 

 

_Why is my jacket so hard to mend!_

 

He was about to start over from scratch when the couch dipped again, and suddenly there was Lance; face red from running but grin still intact. He held out his hands, revealing a small, travel-size sewing kit, complete with several  _legitimate_  needles and five colourful spools of thread. 

 

Keith’s eyebrows shot up on his forehead, and he stared up at Lance in awe.

 

“Where did you get this!”

 

Lance shrugged, as if the details were unimportant. 

 

“I had it in my pocket the day we left.” He smiled, but Keith could tell that there was sadness lurking beneath the surface. He made a point of not asking further questions.

 

Not right now, anyways. 

 

“You’re amazing,” he said instead, and made to grab the kit from Lance’s hands. But Lance pulled back, curling his fist around the small box and tittering at him.

 

“Nope, I want to fix it.”

 

Keith frowned, hands tightening their grip on his jacket as Lance made to take it.

 

“Why?” he asked, and Lance chuckled softly, curling his fingers over Keith’s fists and leaning forward.

 

“Because,” he whispered, “you’re my boyfriend, and I like doing things for you.” He titled his head closer, and Keith rose to meet him. The kiss was soft and tender, like the majority of Lance’s kisses.

 

But for some reason, Keith felt himself slip deeper into this one, like he was drowning and Lance was his air. His eyes shut tightly to fend off the feeling of tears as Lance’s hands wound into his hair, and all at once his heart was floating upwards, desperate to be closer to the boy. 

 

They broke apart after a moment, and Keith let his eyes drop down to his jacket. 

 

He was used to doing things on his own. 

 

Used to fending for himself and taking on the world solo.

 

But that, he realized, had changed with Lance. Now he wasn’t alone. Someone was there to take care of him if he was sick, or angry, or just in need of a hug. And sure, Keith had had Shiro for a long time, and the others would always be there for him if and when he needed, but being with Lance was different.

 

Being with Lance made Keith realize that he could indulge in those foreign, unknown,  _homey_  feelings that he was so unused to. 

 

_Maybe I don't need to do everything by myself._

 

He relinquished his hold on the jacket, and Lance beamed as he slid it over onto his own lap. 

 

“Thank you,” he murmured, and Keith shifted so he was pressed up against the boy's side. He watched as his boyfriend took the wire and cord from the coat, tossing them on the table next to Keith’s knife.

 

“Those would have worked, you know,” Keith said, sensing Lance was about to say something about his efforts. But again Lance only smiled.

 

“I know babe. You would have made it look perfect. But...I want to be the one to do this for you.” He paused, glancing over at Keith with a raised brow. “Is that ok?”

 

Keith nodded.

 

“Just don’t hurt my baby,” he instructed, resting his head on Lance’s shoulder and smiling as he heard Lance laugh quietly. 

 

“Such a weirdo,” he mumbled, pulling out the red spool of thread and making to cut a piece. Keith reached out, stopping him and ignoring the look Lance gave him as he withdrew the blue spool instead.

 

“Use this one.”

 

Lance hesitated, eyeing Keith in disbelief as his fingers curled about the thread. 

 

“Blue?” he asked as Keith settled back against him. “This won’t match, at all.”

 

“I know,” Keith said. “But I like that colour.”

 

Lance was silent as he considered, and then all at once he was tossing the blue one back in the box.

 

“Nope, sorry babe. I will  _not_  have you walking around in a red jacket with  _blue_  string. I wanna make it look like there was never a rip here to begin with, and blue would be a highlighter on the flaw.” He patted Keith’s head as he pouted. “So no. Red it is.”

 

“I don’t care if people can tell,” Keith grumbled, and then Lance was curling his finger beneath Keith’s chin and tilting it upwards, where he placed a quick peck to his lips. 

 

“I know  _you_  don’t, but if I’m going to fix this for you, I’m going to do my best. They didn’t call me the Tailor for nothing-”

 

“That was for flying though, not sewing,” Keith interrupted, and Lance’s mouth fell open comically.

 

“You...when did you hear about that?”

 

Keith shrugged.

 

“Hunk...may have mentioned something.”

 

Lance grunted, turning his attention back to the jacket. 

 

“Typical. You know, I can’t exactly ask Shiro about embarrassing things in  _your_  past. It’s unfair.”

 

Keith felt himself grinning into Lance’s shoulder, and wrapped his arms around the boy’s chest as he nuzzled closer. 

 

“You could, but I have my own blackmail for him that would keep him quiet. Blackmail involving a certain white-haired alien.”

 

Lance hummed, knowing who it was Keith was referring to. 

 

“Alright fine, I’ll just have to ask Matt. I’m sure he’s got  _lots_ of stories about you.”

 

Keith didn’t answer. He was still mourning the loss of the blue string as Lance threaded the red one and began sewing up the tear. His silence must have been noticeable, since Lance paused his efforts to glance down at him.

 

“How about I make you something else with the blue thread. Or, even better, next time we go to the space mall you can help me pick out some material to make whatever you want.”

 

Keith leaned back enough to stare up at his boyfriend, wondering if there was a colour in the universe that could match those eyes, and if it came in wool. 

 

He nodded, feeling his smile grow.

 

“Deal. But I get to make you something as well, promise?”

 

Lance raised a brow as his grin grew crooked. 

 

“Alright then Fireball. I want a red Snuggie.” 

 

Keith had no idea what a Snuggie was, but he nodded nonetheless. And then, because Lance was overwhelming him with those foreign, unknown, homey feelings, he reached out and tossed the jacket to the floor.

 

“Hey, what are you-” Lance started, but broke off as Keith kissed him. He situated himself so that he was snug in Lance’s lap. fingers coming up to tangle in brown hair and grinning as their lips slid apart. 

 

“Your jacket...” Lance breathed, face flushed and eyes wild. Keith smirked.

 

“Let’s fix it later.”

 

“Gee, well,” Lance chuckled, and leaned forward so their mouths were barely touching. “If you insist.” 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on "moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed" prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured I may as well continue this plot instead of start something new!  
> Ya'll are thirsty...  
> And this is mildly nsfw so tread carefully.

Lance had been expecting a soft make-out session when he stumbled across Keith in the common room.

 

He had been bored with nothing to do, and his boyfriend had been M.I.A for the majority of the day, so finally finding him hunched over with his back facing the door had been a relief more than anything.

 

_Good! There you are! Now kiss me you big dummy!_

 

Lance had sauntered into the room, invited in by Keith's grumbled curse; one he had effortlessly shifted to his favour, only to find his illusive boyfriend playing with his knife and a piece of cord. 

 

_Typical._

 

 

_But play time is over now. Pay attention to me!_

 

Long story short, Lance had gotten his wish. 

 

Keith was now sitting in his lap, torn jacket cast aside as Lance's hands found purchase on the boy's lower back; holding him steady as their kisses grew more heated. Again, Lance had been expecting a lazy make-out; several shared smooches while he talked Keith into letting him braid his hair. Maybe a nap together on the couch, if time allowed.

 

But this, he decided, was much better.

 

Keith's hands were playing with the hair at the base of Lance's neck, making him shiver for more reasons than one. But then again, every little thing Keith did tended to have that effect. Each smile, every blush: Lance was giddy with all of it. 

 

 _This boy will be the death of me,_ he thought groggily as Keith's mouth opened, giving Lance a whole new set of sensations to revel in. 

 

_And I don't even think I 'll_ _mind._

 

However, as much as Lance was enjoying himself under Keith's attentions, the common room wasn't exactly the most private place, and Lance worried that with Keith softly grinding on top of him, whether subconsciously or not, his enjoyment may be more visible to any who happened to walk by. 

 

"Keith, babe, I uh-" he managed to get out between breaths, and his boyfriend stalled for just a moment. 

 

"Yeah?" 

 

Lance felt his face heat. He was sure that Keith would have gotten the message with just a breathy utterance of his name. Hell, there was no  _possible_ way he couldn't feel what Lance was hinting at, given how he was sitting, but then again, Keith hadn't always been the best with social queues. 

 

"Look Fireball, as much as I  _love_ what's happening right now, maybe we could take it someplace else?"

 

Keith tilted his head in confusion.

 

"What's wrong with right here?"

 

_You're kidding me right!?_

 

But before Lance could say as much, Keith was pressing his body in closer, paying particular attention to his hip movements, and Lance inhaled sharply.

 

_Oh boy you're the devil!_

 

" _Keith_ ," he hissed, and his boyfriend smirked wickedly. 

 

"Hmm?" Another body roll, and Lance, in a moment of defiance, managed to flip their positions. Keith landed back against the couch with a soft thud, with Lance hovering over him wearing a victorious grin. He closed the space between them with a kiss, before swiftly moving down Keith's neck where he had been teasing the skin there earlier. 

 

_I was trying not to leave a mark before. But now?_

 

_Ha. Now you'll be lucky to find a piece left untouched._

 

Keith groaned as Lance left a trail of darkening spots along his neck, before hands were pushing up against his chest. 

 

In the span of two seconds, Lance was beneath Keith again, and the other wasted no time in paying him back. 

 

_Oh no you don't!_

 

Lance twisted, grabbing hold of Keith's hips and rolling. His intention had been to switch positions once again, only the couches weren't all that big, and he  _may_ have miscalculated the movement in his enthusiasm. 

 

The cushions beneath them disappeared, and after a second of freefall, the two landed heavily on the floor next to the table that held Keith's knife and discarded sewing tools. 

 

Both boys groaned. Keith had taken the majority of the damage, with Lance landing on top of him with a grunt. He saw this as a victory though, and quickly took advantage of Keith's momentary shock to bring their lips together once more. 

 

Keith huffed, but didn't break contact. It was when gloved hands began making their way beneath his shirt that Lance had figured he'd won.

 

And then footsteps could be heard outside, edging closer with no signs of relenting.

 

Lance's head snapped up, his face heating as Keith raised his hips to regain his attention.

 

"Lance-"

 

"Shh," Lance whispered, tossing a finger over Keith's lips in an effort to silence him. The last thing they needed was to get caught in such precarious positions by one of the others. Again.

 

Lance didn't think he could survive another of Coran's 'talks'. 

 

The footsteps drew closer, and with each amplified echo, Lance's heart beat just as loudly. It wasn't helping that Keith was now diligently kissing the finger Lance had over his lips, going so far as to wrap his tongue around it when Lance ignored his attentions. 

 

" _Keith_ , stop it," he hissed, and the boy grinned beneath him.

 

"I don't want to."

 

"Well you have to, otherwise we're gonna get-"

 

"Hello?"

 

They both stilled at the voice, pulses racing as Pidge's voice rang out into the room. 

 

_Oh crap...oh crap oh crap-_

 

Lance counted each heartbeat as he held his breath, until black spots began clouding his vision.

 

And then he heard an exhale, and the footsteps were walking away, leaving himself and Keith safe from discovery. 

 

For now, anyways.

 

"Holy shit," Lance breathed, then glanced back down at Keith. "You're the worst. No way am I getting caught making out by  _Pidge."_

 

Keith chuckled, the sound shaking Lance from his position on top of the boy's chest. 

 

"Not like she hasn't seen us before," he mumbled, and Lance narrowed his eyes down at him.

 

"That was  _incredibly_ awkward and you know it. I couldn't look her in the eye for three days after that." 

 

Keith shrugged, sitting up so Lance was situated in his lap. He wrapped his arms around Lance's thin waist, drawing him in close.

 

"I didn't find it awkward," he teased, eyes sliding shut as his chin tilted upwards. Lance didn't follow suite.

 

"That's because it wasn't  _your_ hand cupping a feel."

 

Keith broke off laughing, letting his head fall to Lance's shoulders as he rememebered the time Pidge had walked in on them in the training room getting handsy. 

 

Lance huffed, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest as he glared back at Keith.

 

"Oh yeah, laugh it up pretty boy. It's not like you helped matters."

 

Lance could still recall how Keith had simply shrugged as Pidge screamed, yelling about how gross the two were, and blah-blah, Shiro comes running and Keith tells him exactly what had gone down.

 

Nevermind Lance's perfectly thought-out lie. Just straight to ' _we were making out, and Lance couldn't control himself'._

 

Keith was still laughing, and despite how disgruntled Lance wanted to be with him, the sound of his joy was more than enough to fuel his forgiveness. Soon Lance was grabbing Keith's head with both hands and lifting it up for him to kiss properly again.

 

Keith made a startled noise in the back of his throat before reciprocating the intensity of the kiss, pulling Lance in closer as they rocked back and forth on the ground. Things were once again spiraling out of control, but this time Lance had enough common sense to stop Keith before his hands wandered too far.

 

"No. If we're doing this the we're going somewhere private." 

 

Keith whined against his lips, letting Lance know how he felt about the proposition.

 

"Fine," Lance huffed. "Then I'm getting up and leaving. I am  _not_ risking getting caught again."

 

He made to stand, but found himself in the vice grip of Keith's arms as they tightened around him.

 

"Nooo," he complained, "don't leave me," and Lance rolled his eyes.

 

"Then c'mon! My room is closest, we can go there."

 

Keith grumbled, but got up nonetheless. As soon as he was on both feet his mouth was latching onto Lance's neck, teeth dragging slowly across his collarbone. Lance's head lolled, the sensation making his mind fuzzy with pleasure, but he had a mission.

 

"Keith, babe, I know I'm absolutely  _irresistible_ , but you gotta help me here."

 

He felt Keith grin against his skin.

 

"Oh, I'll 'help' you alright," and suddenly a hand was squeezing Lance's rear, making him yelp in surprise.

 

" _Keith!"_

 

His boyfriend laughed, but stepped back enough to allow Lance a proper step.

 

"Fine, but as soon as that door closes you're mine."

 

Lance swallowed thickly at the declaration, but nodded eagerly. He wrapped an arm around Keith's middle, and pulled him as best he could from the room. Once ensuring the coast was clear, he darted out into the hallway, Keith's fingers entwining with his own as they ran towards Lance's room. 

 

 _Since when have the sleeping quarters been this far away?!_ he thought angrily as he and Keith slipped through the castle. They nearly bumped into Shiro at one point, but managed to dive into an empty room at the last moment, avoiding a confrontation. Keith took advantage of the momentary pause to slip his hands under Lance's shirt, feeling up and down and scratching lightly as Lance stifled his groans. 

 

_Oh I'm so gonna get you back for this._

 

Once clear, they practically sprinted back to Lance's room, and as soon as it slid shut behind them, Keith was pushing him up against it.

 

" _Finally,_ " he mumbled, then slotted his lips with Lance's, pushing back until their bodies were flush. Lance allowed Keith to take charge for a moment, sighing heavily as Keith's mouth shifted across his jawline, up to the the junction near his ear, where he whispered roughly: "Now you're mine."

 

The sound that escaped Lance's throat was close enough to a whine that it made Keith stall in his actions, giving just enough time for Lance to grip him by the shoulders and shift their positions. He slid a knee between Keith's legs, to better hold him in place.

 

Keith had other ideas as to what to do with the obstruction, and shifted his hips upwards. Soon the sounds he was making as Lance carded his fingers through tangled black hair had them both panting heavily against the wall.

 

"Lance-"

 

Lance swallowed the rest of Keith's sentence, bringing their lips back together and savouring the taste. He drew closer, allowing their bodies to slide together pleasantly. Keith grit his teeth as the motion, breaking the kiss in favour of growling lowly, almost menacingly; his head falling back against the wall with a loud thump.

 

Lance paused, hearing the echo of the noise and fearing that others may as well.

 

_Not good._

 

_Wall is not a great place for this._

 

Leading to him grabbing fistfuls of Keith's shirt, slotting their lips together once more and dragging him away from the door, back into the center of his room. The idea worked better in his head, and Lance severally misjudged the amount of obstacles blocking the path from wall to bed. 

 

They crashed into his dresser, where Keith grunted at the impact, but never relented on the kiss. In fact the motion only seemed to fire him up more, and Lance squeaked as one of his legs came up to rest around his calves. 

 

_So that's how you wanna play, huh?_

 

Lance responded in kind, shoving Keith back into the dresser for better leverage and sliding his hands down the boy's body to rest behind toned thighs. He then bent, using the added energy Keith was supplying him and using it to pick his boyfriend up. 

 

Keith gasped against his lips; arms flying to wrap around Lance's shoulders as he was lifted. And then firm legs were hooking around Lance's waist, drawing them closer as their kiss deepened.

 

 _Geez Keith you little koala,_ Lance thought idly as Keith's grip tightened. But with his boyfriend safely positioned against the dresser, Lance allowed one of his hands the privilege of slipping beneath Keith's shirt, teasing and feeling and causing goosebumps to rise wherever his fingers traced. 

 

_I love when that happens..._

 

But as much as Lance  _adored_ having his boyfriend pinned against his furniture, one hand wasn't enough to savour the moment. He need both; wanted more. So with Keith's legs still secured around his hips, Lance readjusted his grip and pushed off the dresser.

 

Keith didn't even notice, his attention solely focused on Lance's mouth; hands now twining up to scratch lightly at his scalp. 

 

Lance groaned as the feeling of blunt nails in his hair sent vibrations across his body, and his foot bumped into something on his floor, sending them both tumbling into the far wall.

 

Their teeth clanked together on impact, but if Keith was bothered by the motion, he didn't let it show. Instead he began rocking his hips against Lance's torso, a feat that had Lance's head spinning with euphoria, and  he leaned heavily into the wall, using it as support as his knees grew weak.

 

"Hmmph-" he managed to get out as Keith's rocking hit a particularly sensitive region, but the noise only encouraged the movements. Keith was relentless, and Lance was slowly losing control. Who would have guessed he had been distraught over a torn coat mere minutes before?

 

Lance wondered absently if he had said or done something to make his boyfriend so entirely  _horny_ all of a sudden, mostly for future reference. But then Keith's hands were roaming down his back, leaving light scratches in their wake as he ground into Lance's pelvis, and all other thoughts were cast aside.

 

In fact, the only one worth mentioning was: _Where the hell is the bed!?_

 

Lance, with one final burst of strength, pushed off the wall and stumbled blindly towards where he figured the mattress should be. Hell, it was almost like he hadn't been living in the same room for the past year and half. He should know where his bed was in relation to everything else by now.

 

And yet there he was, confused and fumbling as he searched blindly. 

 

It wasn't until his knees hit against the edge of something low and soft that Lance finally felt victorious in his efforts. He and Keith fell forwards, landing with a bounce onto the sheets of Lance's bed. Keith made no attempt to loosen his grip, not that Lance minded much. 

 

If anything, Keith's position gave him a better vantage point, and as he crawled onto the bed more fully, Keith's hips rose with him, until his shoulders where taking the majority of their combined weight. 

 

Keith broke apart with a gasp, noticing for the first time that he was no longer being held up, and that he was once again beneath Lance. He frowned, unclasping his feet and letting them fall to the bed on either side of Lance's body. 

 

"Do you like looking down at me or-"

 

"Yes," Lance interrupted him with a kiss. "I like it a lot."

 

Keith flushed, which was impressive seeing as his face was already a mask of red. 

 

"Well maybe I like looking down at you."

 

Lance grinned, raising a brow as he licked his swollen lips. 

 

"My room, my rules."

 

Keith scoffed, wiggling under Lance's weight.

 

"Oh I see. That was the plan all along wasn't it!" 

 

Lance shrugged, trying his best to come across as innocent. Truthfully, he had chosen his room simply because it was closest. Keith's was another door down. Much too far.

 

"I'll make you a compromise," he said after a moment, sitting up and straddling Keith's hips.

 

"What are you doing?" Keith asked, fingers twining in the hem of Lance's shirt. 

 

"Making things more even." He motioned for Keith to get up, which he did with a toothy grin, and then together they scooted back on the bed until Keith's back was pressed up against the wall. 

 

"There," Lance breathed, settling himself in closer as Keith's hands came to wrap around him. "Better?"

 

Keith answered by bringing their lips together once more, softer than before, for which Lance was almost grateful. He would need some serious chapstick when this was all said and done. 

 

Not that he cared much at that moment. 

 

He brought his hands up to once again play with Keith's hair, sinking into the kiss and feeling his body relax into the one beneath him. This was much better, now that they were on the bed. More comfortable, less haphazard. 

 

Not that he minded the latter...but Lance was always a sucker for soft Keith. 

 

His Keith.

 

No one else's. 

 

_Just mine._

 

Call it greedy, but Lance loved that only he got to see this side of his boyfriend. The one that drew patterns on his back as they kissed; fire inside him not raging, as it usually did, but rather glowing softly, like warm coals. 

 

The one that hummed absently against his lips, uncaring of the sounds he made. 

 

The one that giggled in hushed tones when Lance nipped at his ear. 

 

Lance loved the quiet parts of Keith, and he made sure to savour each one, as they usually didn't last long. 

 

As it was, he almost pouted as Keith drew back, breaking the tender kiss as his smile grew teasing; a look that had Lance's insides perking up in anticipation. That and...other things.

 

_Thank god we made it to the room._

 

Keith leaned forward, rocking his hips upwards and causing Lance to inhale sharply at the friction between them. At least he wasn't the only one overly eager, and he pressed back shamelessly. Keith's eyes were dancing, the sparks from those coals growing wild and dangerous, but at this point Lance was willing to fan the flames. 

 

"Now, Mr Tailor," Keith breathed, hands sinking lower on Lance's body and sending pinpricks of energy along his spine. "Let's see how well you thread the needle, yeah?"

 

Lance narrowed his eyes, accepting Keith's challenging tone by sealing the deal with a sloppy kiss, knowing there would be plenty more to come. 

_Oh, you're so on._

 

_I'll show you Fireball..._

 

_And then I'm fixing that jacket._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fans self*
> 
> Is it getting hot in here? Or is that just the devil coming to take me?
> 
> Just kiddddinnggggg
> 
> I made this purposely a bit more sfw since it was based on a prompt for kissing and not sex. Also, notice the lack of mention of any specific words? That's right kiddos. No dicks here.
> 
> Oh crap...
> 
> Ok one dick.
> 
> Two.
> 
> No more.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://www.vulpes--vulpes@tumblr.com)


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